


Remnants of Ash Shadows

by R_Quarion



Category: L.A. Noire
Genre: Canon Era, During Canon, F/M, M/M, OCs - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Roy calls him Baby Face, Spinoff, Story Continuation, Which is valid bc his face claim is Michael Johnston
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:15:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24035689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_Quarion/pseuds/R_Quarion
Summary: Edward Leville, Hershel's partner in '40, tragically taken from the LAPD. Only... taken in literal sense... Which becomes apparent when the deadman steps through the police station's doors a whole seven years later. With a gravestone engraved with his name and the hatred of the men he once worked beside, Leville's return is far from what he had hoped it would be.
Relationships: Herschel Biggs & Original Character(s), Roy Earle & Original Character(s), Stefan Bekowsky & Original Character(s)





	Remnants of Ash Shadows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [L.A Noire Discord Server](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=L.A+Noire+Discord+Server).



Leville had felt many types of fear within his short time of living. He'd felt fear at the brink of death. He'd felt fear of losing too much blood. He'd felt fear as his eyes had slipped closed for what felt like the last time. He'd felt fear embedded in ash and soot. As dark as the void and harsh enough to burn his senses. But the fear he was feeling in this very moment was an obscure type of fear. 

Thirty year old Edward Leville stood out front of the LAPD Wilkshier station. Sweating almost profusely out of sheer nervousness rather than the summer's day. It was a beautiful one at that, pastel blue skies and not a cloud on the horizon. 

Thirteen minutes had passed. Thirteen minutes of standing outside the central police station, barely moving. Pedestrians passed before and behind him, swiftly avoiding him in their paths. The next few steps would be hard to take. It was almost as if his feet were molded to the ground. Gravity stronger than it had ever been. Facing against the very threads of the universe itself. 

Slowly, and with trembling legs, he took a few steps until he was inside. 

At first it was all chaos and confusion as he disappeared among bustling people and loud phone lines. Directions being given and interviews being conducted. But the further he got into the building, the more eyes that followed him. The looks themselves were almost cataclysmic. Their stares seem to burn into Leville. A shudder ran through him, twitching his right shoulder. 

Leville was home. 

The silence that greeted him as detectives looked up and recognised him was beyond eerie. He felt as if he were a ghost. Haunting his own past and that of his prior friends. It took until he was all the way by his old desk that a shiver ran through his spine. It was followed by that repeat twitch in his shoulder. 

Outstretching his hand, Leville trailed his fingers along the dust-ridden desk. Lightly rubbing the pad of his thumb over a pen mark he had accidentally left in the wood. It was as it always had been. 

"Holy fuck..." Leville looked up to the voice and the sound of a pen hitting the floor. "Baby Face?"    
Roy stood on the other side of the room, staring dead at him. The shock in his eyes was real and the colour drained from his face.    
"Earle." Leville nearly stood at attention, but instead his nervousness held frozen in place.    
"How in God's green fuckable Earth..?!" Roy exclaimed,    
"Hello Sir." Leville nodded as he always had, as if he had never left. Then he twitched, muscles in his shoulder spasming again.    
"That's... all you have to say?" Roy approached him with cautious steps. He had to be cautious, there was a chance that he was seeing a ghost. 

It felt like eternity before Roy was a mere metre from him. Their eyes locked in an intense study of one another. Roy hadn't changed much, not in the eight years Leville had been gone. Roy’s jaw was as strong and clenched in frustration as it ever had been. Eyes that could kill. Suit of ridiculous material. Silky, salmon in colour, so unnecessary and so entirely Roy. Part of Leville wondered what Roy was searching for in his eyes. Answers, maybe. They weren't to be found there. 

Before Leville could even respond to it, Roy had thrown his fist out to punch Leville's shoulder. Flinching and grabbing it, he refrained himself from crying out.    
"Heavens, Earle!?" Leville exclaimed, taking half a step back.    
"Sorry, I had to check I wasn't seeing things." Roy was not sorry in no way, shape or form. "Bastard. It's been fucking years."   
"Why are you here, Earle, you don't work in Wilkshier?" Leville tilted his head slightly in wonder,   
"Why are you here, Leville, you have a grave?!" 

That was the million dollar question that Leville didn't know how to begin answering. Before he could even say a word, Roy's arm had shot out and grabbed him.    
"You. Me. The captain. Right now." Roy hissed, not losing his grip on Leville's wrist.    
"Earle, let me go." He tried to snatch his wrist back but the vice detective's hand had a death grip. 

If his presence itself hadn’t been enough to raise heads, then Roy dragging him through the corridors certainly was.

"Captain McKelty." Roy barged through the door, smacking it with his shoulder as he did so,  
"I'm in the middle of something important, Roy, what do--" McKelty jumped as Roy pushed Leville into the room. The coffee mug in McKelty’s hands dropped and hit the floor with a shatter. Leville flinched, tremor running through his shoulder.   
"Evening, McKelty." Leville spoke in his regular monotone. The shock on the captain's face was one of sheer terror. Dark coffee dripping from benchtops and soaking into shoes.   
“Eddy?” The arrogance in his usual tone of voice was completely gone. The name just a mere whisper in the room’s draft. There was a surreal feeling to the whole of the room. Shards of the mug casted all over the floor, fragmented and crunching harshly as McKelty approached him. Seeming to hover around him, ducking his head back and forth slowly as he studied his former employee, “ _but you_ _died_ …”

“Negative, Sir.” The room would have been silent if it wasn’t for Earle snorting.   
“This fucking guy.” He gestured his arms wildly at the younger man, scoffing at the ludicrousness of it all.   
“How did you…?” McKelty was still in shock and whispering, “Leville, we are going to need… a  _ number _ of statements… I-- how is this possible?”   
“It’s a long story. I’ll save it for the interview.” Leville grimaced, looking between all of the detectives in the room. “I am aware of the time… I’ve been gone for over two thousand days.”   
“Most of us measure in years, asshat.” Roy sneered.   
“Does Biggs know?” McKelty piped up, slowly becoming adjusted to what was in front of him.   
“No and he’s out following a lead with Phelps.” Roy answered for Leville. “Sir, I’d be happy to take Leville back to Hollywood station. Less likely for his return to draw attention, best chance of this being done without raising too much hell.”   
McKelty was not in the best frame of mind to be making such choices but he went with his gut.   
“Thank you, Roy, that would work. Take Detective Tilden with you, he’s familiar with Leville’s… _story_.”

Tilden had been silent up until that exact moment. His name was almost a cue for him to speak as he stared Leville up and down and whispered,   
“Asshole. We buried you. You lose a brother in the force, you lose part of yourself. I hope you have some good fucking explanations.”   
Leville looked at each of them in turn.   
“I do.”   
Tilden snatched Leville’s arm and hissed,    
“We’ll see.”

If the looks on the way in were bad, then the looks on the way out were worse. Whispers heard throughout corridors, speaking of the dead, riddled with flaws. Once they were out the door, Roy let his arm go. Leville held it gently, where Roy's fingers had imprinted red markings. The red didn't compare in the slightest to Roy's car, which was beautiful beyond Leville's comprehension. 

“So… seen the  _ shadow realm  _ then??” Roy teased, reaching his hand out to turn down the radio.   
“Roy--” Tilden didn’t get a another word in before Roy had looked over his shoulder,   
“Hey. Tilden. I’ll be interested in what you have to say if you return from the dead, like Eddy here. Until then? Shut the fuck up.”   
“Call me Leville, Roy.” He reminded the older man who, clearly, didn’t take too much notice of the correction.  
"Not a talker, huh? Better think about your answers for the interview… they won't take silence, Baby Face…"  
Leville looked out to the streets. Wind in his short hair, cool on his cheeks, ruffling his jacket. Music hummed through the radio, Roy smirking and singing to himself. 

_ We three, we'll wait for you, _

_ Even till eternity, _

_ My echo, my shadow, and me... _

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little side project of mine. As the L.A. Noire discord encouraged me to do OC RP, I have absolutely fallen in love with these characters. Edward Leville's origin can be read in Detrimental Alchemy of the Social Basket Case, also found here on ao3. With appearances from some great pal's OCs; Marisol and Irving, I really hope to explore this world further.


End file.
